


The Phantom & the Flea

by ThePhantomsRose



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, The Phantom of the Opera (TV 1990), Un monstre à Paris | A Monster in Paris (2011)
Genre: Cherik - Freeform, Crossover, F/M, Music, One Shot, Wholesome, dreamery, francoeur - Freeform, friends - Freeform, phantom AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePhantomsRose/pseuds/ThePhantomsRose
Summary: One day, Christine notices something peculiar in Erik's dreamery
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	The Phantom & the Flea

Erik hummed an upbeat melody to himself as he and Christine traipsed through the lush green growth of his prized dreamery, gardening tools in each of their hands and a wagon dragging behind them. Ever since Christine had come to live with Erik, she had been helping him upkeep his dreamery, always with a smile on her face. 

"Papa and I used to take care of our garden when we lived in Sweden." Christine had said joyfully when she first offered to assist Erik with the dreamery. Erik had been taking care of his realm all by himself for most of his life, and he admitted that as much as he loved his Christine, a part of him worried she might accidentally knock over one of his deer or step on a sapling. But after watching her skillfully plant a patch of azaleas with care, he agreed to let her help him out.

Erik had on his gardening clothes - dark brown pants, a white frilled shirt, his signature golden vest, and his favorite boater hat. Christine would always ask Erik why he dressed up so nicely only to get his clothes dirty from gardening, to which he would respond: "I want the plants to look their best; therefore, I should look my best as well." 

"Would you like to plant the cherry sapling, dear?" Erik stopped the wagon in a clearing where beams of sunlight shone through the cave ceiling's cracks and onto the earth floor.

"I'd love to!" Christine exclaimed happily, excited that Erik had given her the honor of planting the cherry sapling he had grown from seed. Erik gently lifted the sapling from the wagon, which was planted carefully in a small terra-cotta pot.

Christine sunk her trowel into the soft soil and dug out a shallow hole in the ground. Erik knelt beside her and eased the sapling out of the pot, passing it to Christine as it showered bits of loose soil onto the floor. Christine met Erik's eyes as she took the plant from his hands; she softly smiled at him in reassurance, causing his tense shoulders to relax slightly.

As gently as a mother would tuck her child into bed, Christine laid the sapling into the hole and surrounded it with dirt until it was snug in the earth. Erik leaned over and pressed a kiss to Christine's cheek.

"Perfection," he murmured into her ear; Christine couldn't tell if he was referring to her or the sapling, but frankly, it didn't matter to her. She cupped his face in her hands, feeling the cool porcelain of his mask, before landing a soft kiss on his lips.

"The rose bushes need some pruning," Erik stated as he stood up, his joints cracking in the process. "I believe I spotted some weeds sprouting up around them as well. Let's head over and get those taken care of."

Christine tossed her trowel into the wagon with a loud 'clank' and stood up, brushing the dirt from her knees, and walked alongside Erik as they made their way towards the rose bushes.

As they hiked through the woods, Christine heard Erik begin humming a tune different from the one he had been singing earlier. Although it was quiet, the melody was beautiful.

"What song is that?" Christine asked Erik.

He turned to look at her, a puzzled expression on his face. "What song?"

"The one you were humming."

"The one earlier?"

"No, just now," Christine continued. "It was lovely."

"I haven't been humming just now," Erik replied. "You must have heard something from the opera house above."

Christine wasn't convinced. She _knew_ she had heard someone humming, and if it wasn't Erik, then who could it have been?

She thought that perhaps she had imagined it and drove the memory away, continuing her and Erik's journey to the rose bushes. Then, she heard the tune again, only this time it sounded closer and louder.

"There it is again!" Christine shouted. "Do you hear it?" 

Erik had stopped walking to listen and nodded his head slowly. "I hear it."

Christine began looking all around her for the noise's source when she spotted a bug sitting on her arm. "Ahh, a bug must have crawled on me while I was kneeling in the dirt!" She squealed as she raised her hand to strike the critter away.

Erik quickly stopped her hand from squishing the bug. "No, wait!" He held her wrist in his large hands, leaning his ear towards her arm. "I think the bug is singing."

"The _bug_ is _singing?"_ Christine echoed in bewilderment as Erik released her hand and she let it fall beside her, peering at the insect perched on her arm.

Sure enough, there was indeed a tiny insect standing on its two back legs, singing. Christine had grown up in the countryside with chirping crickets and cicadas, but she had never heard a bug sing like this one before; it had a _human_ voice - a male human voice.

"How peculiar," Erik whispered in astonishment, holding out one of his long fingers for the bug to step upon. The little critter took a careful hop onto Erik's finger and continued to sing. Erik examined the creature as he held him close to his face. "He's a flea. I didn't think fleas could even make a noise."

The flea continued singing his song while Erik and Christine couldn't do anything but watch in amazement. After he had finished his ballad, the flea leaped out of Erik's hand. The two began looking around frantically for him when they heard a tiny 'splash' come from one of the bottles in the wagon. Upon closer examination, Erik saw that he had fallen into his homemade plant growth elixir. 

"Oh no!" Christine exclaimed. "Erik, get him out of there!"

Erik quickly fished him out of the liquid and held him in his fingers. The flea didn't move, and to Erik and Christine's dismay, it appeared he was dead.

Suddenly, the flea sprung back to life and jumped from Erik's hand onto the ground. The flea began to grow rapidly in size until it even towered over Erik. Christine gaped up at the giant insect and cowered behind Erik. The flea looked down at them and chirped happily, its eyes wide and expressive. 

The flea bent down to pluck a dandelion from the ground and handed it to Erik in a friendly gesture. Erik chuckled and twirled the dandelion in his hand. "Christine, he means to harm."

Christine slowly stepped out from behind Erik. The flea extended another dandelion to them, this one towards Christine. She took it tentatively and couldn't help but smile as his delighted chips melted her fear away.

"He's an insect," Erik began. "Yet he has the good and honest heart of a man, a _franc cœur."_

The flea sang his song once again, and now that he had grown from the size of a grain of rice to taller than the average person, Christine and Erik could hear just how beautiful his voice truly was. Erik stepped forward and grinned up at the flea. "Honest-hearted flea, _Francœur_ , would you like to come inside and sing some more?"

Francœur nodded, somehow able to understand. Christine cast a wary glance towards Erik.

"Erik, how are we going to explain what a seven-foot-tall flea is doing in the opera house?" She whispered, quietly so that Francœur couldn't hear. 

"He can live with us in the lair," Erik said excitedly, imagining the music he, Christine, and Francœur could write together. Erik had no idea how this wonderful little critter found his way into the dreamery, but he was overjoyed at the situation. And thus was the beginning of such an unlikely friendship - a phantom, a soprano, and a flea.


End file.
